Strangers
by Siarc
Summary: And she was okay with this, okay with him. Even if she didn't know who he was. Fem!Ita/Kisa, slight AU.


Hello! I haven't updated in a while, and for those who follow me I'll tell you why: I went on a trip, I've been playing online games (Pockie Ninja, Mabinogi), going to college orientations, and I promise you I write at least 1-2 stories EVERYDAY, but I never finish them and/or don't feel like they're good enough to post.

But then yesterday I wrote this and as odd as it seemed to turn out to me, I loved it. So here's Siarc, ready to share another story. Cause I love how you guys love these guys too.

I would also like to share my disappointment in that I can rarely find any fics about a genderbent Kisame or Itachi besides my own. I enjoy writing it, but I enjoy reading it too. This Siarc here has been combing through image galleries and fic sites and has found little to nothing and is saddened.

I like to talk. a;lskghj;aslkjf. Anyways.

WARNINGS: Slightly AU, Fem!Itachi/Kisame, genderbending, blood and gore, repetition and reoccuring themes, literature, story... As always I try hard to keep to the interpretation I have of a female Itachi and the interpretation of Kisame.

This was partially inspired by a song, if you can't tell.

* * *

It had all been too much.

The words flowed through her head like a cascading river. Never ending, never halting, and never relenting for a moment.

Everything was so confusing, she began to jumble words. She thought she was out of her mind, losing herself in the abyss.

One night as her father discussed with her their newest plans to destroy some government institution handled by their rival clan, she had stood up and excused herself. She had pulled on a light jacket of her mother's and her own shoes and had run, and run, and run.

Exhausted, she had stopped at a small bridge. She didn't know where she was, simply that she was out of the village. The bridge stood over a body of water, small enough so the bridge wasn't stretching very far. Uncovered, opening up to a bare, starry sky, she gripped her hair and cursed her luck, her life.

She kicked the railing. Growled in anger, in stress, in anxiousness. Her father was in her head, the Hokage was in her head. They were battling words, telling her to do opposite things, and she had to do them at the same time, all the time, every time.

And she was sure if anyone saw her right now, they'd think she was a nutcase. Hair slightly ruffled, cosmetics long gone, old clothing on beneath the jacket. She looked tired, worn, not to mention she carried small wounds from her latest mission.

She always came home with new ones.

Effectively pushing off massacre for a good five years, she was at whit's end. She had convinced all parties not to move, she had convinced everyone that things were okay for now. Nobody was dying. Nobody was being hurt.

But now she was losing her grip on the situation, and it was a mess.

The cold set in around her, chilling her to the bone. But she knew it wasn't the regular cold. It was all kinds of cold – the cold of loneliness, the cold of frustration, the cold of deadly responsibility. It was a cold night, and she clutched herself as she leaned over the railing, gazing down into the water.

Faces flashed before her eyes. She saw Sasuke and Shisui and her mother and her aunt and her uncle and the few people she could even remotely call friends. She saw her ANBU squad, the men she worked with on a daily basis. She saw her father, she saw the Third Hokage.

Eventually, tired, she turned and slumped against the railing, sitting on the cold wood. The darkness had set in completely, dark clouds hiding most of the stars tonight.

And of course, that luck of hers. A crackle of thunder in the distance, and minute later a light sprinkling of rain began to fall. It seemed to dust over her, made her squint her eyes. But there was no effort to move to the cover of trees. No effort to move at all.

"They can find me frozen here in the morning," she grumbled, not exactly in her right mind she knew. Talking to herself was always a minus.

The drops grew in size, and soon that light dusting of rain became huge drops of water, falling fast and hard. She didn't bother to put her hood up, just rested her head on her knees.

It felt good on her hot skin. But the cold penetrated deeper and deeper into her.

How long she was there, she couldn't determine. But what she did notice was when the thundering of the rain had gone away above her for some reason. She peaked between her knees and there was still the rain.

But why wasn't it hitting her?

Hair glued to her face, she let her head lift up. There was a foot, a big foot. Connected to a leg-

She looked up a long ways to find a face. Beady eyes met her onyx orbs.

"You alright?" a deep, rumbling voice echoes beneath the cover of an umbrella. "Not the best place to take shelter, you know."

It was a shinobi of a different country. He wore a headband that labeled him a Mist shinobi.

Words wouldn't come from her mouth. She gazed at him, then forward, then down. The tall man, wearing a cloak over standard Mist gear, knelt down next to her, looking slightly confused.

In the rain, he looked awfully pale to her. His jaw was strong, higher cheekbones protruding with his age. He looked about thirty, with dark blue hair styled forward. He was bulky, and on his back her carried a massive sword.

"I'm not all that caring of a guy," he grins, and she's amazed to see a row of jagged, sharpened teeth. "But sitting out in the rain like this is kind of stupid, don't you think?"

She eyed him for a few moments, before it hit her pretty hard. He was right, so right. What was she _doing_?

A shake of her head.

"Bad night," she said, as though that would explain it all somehow.

"Well, this isn't the place you should be spending it then." He stands up, and offers a hand to her. "I'm on my way to the next town over. And I don't think I wanna leave you here."

Hesitance. This was a shinobi from a village they were fighting at the moment. But he didn't know she was a shinobi, there was no way to indicate that. With a shaky, cold hand, she reached up and grasped his. The warmth in that hand was startling, and she found herself drawn to this warm.

He helped her slowly to her feet. He made a small 'tsk, tsk' noise when he noticed she was soaked completely through. Nonetheless, he stayed close by her side, holding the umbrella more over her than himself. He didn't mind how her fingers lingered in the palm of his other hand.

She knew she was crazy, letting a stranger take her to a place she doesn't ever recall visiting. But she felt a trust in him. He had gone out of his way to check on her. He didn't even ask her name. He didn't ask what was wrong.

Instead, he was taking her by the hand to bring her to safety. A complete stranger, of a different nation, a warring nation, and he was taking her to safety.

She didn't let her guard down, but Itachi couldn't help but feel that this would be okay.

The mud and water sloshed beneath their feet. This man was a head and a half taller than her. After a while, he gripped her hand in his, shuddering a little.

"You're freezing," he says, and there's obvious concern in his voice, "How long have you been out?"

"A while," she says, with a small shrug. "I don't know."

This answer seems good enough for him. He squeezes her hand in his, as though trying to pass on his warmth to her.

They reach a small town's gates, and then Itachi recognizes it. She realizes that she had not ran all that far, as they were only in Tanzaku town.

The inn comes into sight quickly.

"Do you live in this town?" he asks, and she shakes her head no. "I'll get you a room."

Buying a stranger a hotel room of their own for a night? It was too much, she couldn't understand it.

"You don't need to," she says, shaking her head. In the light of the inn, she can see that he's not pale at all. His skin is a lovely blue-gray color, and his eyes a glimmering gold. "I can get one myself, I appreciate your help-"

"I doubt you have money on you," the man grins that sharp grin again, and Itachi suddenly realizes he's right. In fact, she has _nothing_ on her.

"You've been kind enough-"

The man holds up a hand. "Yeah, I have. I normally don't do this for people at all. But I'm making a big exception for you right now, so just let me get you a room, alright?"

Two rooms, right next to each other. He hands her a key, and they walk down the corridor together. Itachi isn't sure whether to feel guilt, feel happy, or to feel… well, what else.

"Why did you make an exception today?" she asks him, genuinely curious. The man gazes at her for a long time.

"You reminded me a lot of a situation I was in, once upon a time." He shrugs, looks away, as though it's personal information that he's only revealing on a whim, "I had wanted so desperately for someone to come along and bring me away from that place. For someone to do _something_, you know? Seeing you there, I couldn't just pass you by. If… that makes any sort of sense."

It did, but it didn't. This was supposed to be her enemy, and the caring between them in these moments was amazing. But she was sure not to take it for granted.

"Anyways, sleep tight. Get into warm clothing, they have robes in this hotel," the man opens the door to his room, "And don't do any more stupid shit, okay?"

She gazed at him for a long while, and he gave her a sort of 'did you even hear what I just said?' look. But she offered a small smile, and nod.

"Thank you," she said, and moved quickly towards him. He seemed startled, defensive, but when her lips met his cheek, he was startled in another way.

She could tell he was a man who didn't think highly of himself. But right now, he was the most amazing man she had ever met.

"Goodnight," she offered another tiny smile before moving into her own room, closing the door firmly behind her. Leaving him there to scratch his head.

That had been a certainly daring move. But what could she do? He had been there when nobody else had, and he was just a stranger.

She peeled the wet clothing off of herself and hung it in the bathroom to dry. She wrapped herself in the warm robe and dried her hair rigorously.

After a while, lying beneath the sheets, she couldn't help but smile very slightly in the dark. The warmth she felt was a warmth she had never felt before, sweet and happy and undisturbed.

A stranger had gone out of his way to bring her to safety. He had cared about her. The fact was puzzling, extraordinary, and yet so simple. So, so simple.

Sleep came easily that night, easier than any night of sleep she had had since she was very young.

It hadn't been long before she was back on that bridge. A few months, and that peace she had felt for a while and so desperately clung onto was dwindling away, until she was dropped back into delusion.

Her attitude toward her father had changed. Towards the Hokage. A group of rabid beasts determined to rip each other apart, not caring if anyone else stood in the way.

As night crept on, she was glad to see no storm clouds above her head. Cold as it was, the stranger who resided still in her mind commended her for not being an idiot tonight.

Or was she?

Off in the distance, she heard the familiar rumble of battle.

And it was code – you hear it, and your side is fighting, you help.

She had come more prepared this time – her bag and some weapons. She wandered slowly in the direction of the night battle, chakras whizzing past her senses. She couldn't recognize them at all.

The battle scene startled her. Chilled her to the bone.

Neither of the sides were hers. On one side was a platoon of Black Ops from the Stone village. They were being felled quickly, easily, by their opponent –

And she couldn't believe her eyes.

The way her stranger laughed was haunting. His sword, sentient she could see now, wriggled slightly in his grip. As the shinobi rushed him, one man versus many, she was tempted to step into the fray to save him.

But that was unnecessary, she saw immediately. Each warrior fell in a pool of blood. Limbs and bodies shredded.

"You're supposed to be the elite?" the man's cackle was bone-chilling, "What a shame."

Some of the men groaned and writhed, cradling shredded limbs and torsos. Some lay dead.

Ruthlessly, he went about and finished each man off, slicing necks with the huge sword. The gleam in his eyes was disturbingly deadly, and she realized a little too late when those eyes found her presence in the shelter of the trees and bushes.

"Show yourself," he demands, and seems sure that it's one of them.

She's unsure of how to approach this. Suddenly this kind man has become frightening. But she sees herself in him. Without the bloodlust, but with the cruelty, without the care.

It's what pushes her to step out of the behind the trees and into the clearing, stepping over a body.

The surprise on his face is enormous.

"What're you doing here?" he asks, taken aback, "Don't tell me these are-"

"No, they're not." She says, shaking her head, "I'm of Konoha."

And he seemed to realize this as well by the red gleam of her eye.

"Then what are you doing here?" he asks, tilting his head, certainly amused. "Bad night?"

The echo of her own words is surprising. He hasn't forgotten her either, it seems.

"They're becoming common," she says, with no hints of amusement. She gazes around the ground as he approaches her. "Stranger."

"You shouldn't be here, for obvious reasons," he stands before her, with a devilish grin, "I'm not buying you a room again… _Stranger_."

"You act as if I did not appreciate the kindness you showed," Itachi frowns at him, "Or perhaps you don't believe me when I say this is coincidence."

"You're an Uchiha, I know you're not with them," he nudges a body with his foot, "But that does not make you better than any of them. You are a shinobi, I can tell now."

Some silence passes between them, leaving the river to talk as it passes over rocks and trickles down small falls. As fish jump in and out of the water.

"Then I will leave you," she relents, turns and walks back towards the forest, "My only reason for coming was to see if a comrade needed assistance. That's obviously not the case."

She made it a few steps before she felt the touch of his fingers on hers. Unsure of why, she let her feet stop.

"What's your name?" he asks, and there's an odd change in his voice. That civil man that was on the bridge is back in him.

She wondered if she should answer this or not. But the harm? She could see none, other than that he would know they were really enemies after this.

"Uchiha Itachi," she says, and moves to pull her fingers from his, but the whole hand grabs hers instead. She turns her eyes back on him and his gaze is curious, amused.

"You're not serious?" he chuckles deeply. "The woman I saved from the rain was a Black Ops commander, Uchiha clan next-in-line? I don't believe it."

"Then don't. I'm not here to convince you." She turned back to him, feeling that his grip was inescapable. He didn't want her to leave, and somehow, she didn't want to either.

"Then why are you still here?"

"You squeeze hard."

He moves a step closer, so they aren't arm's width apart. He holds her hand with one hand, the other balancing his sword on his shoulder. The scene is odd, as she remembers the bodies littered beneath their feet.

"You shouldn't be here," she says, side glancing bodies, "it won't be long before they're found."

"I wouldn't mind the challenge," he says, and his tone is edging on playful. "But true, I don't need any distractions right now. Walk with me, Itachi."

He releases her hand to replaces the sword on his back. But as they find the trail again, his fingers wander to her palm, tickle it wantonly.

They're on the same path they travelled before. But now, her mind is more clear, less hazy. The emotions of earlier have yet to leave, but she feels somewhat relaxed near the stranger again. Even the thought of the crimes he just committed don't faze her.

The silence passes between them comfortably. Her hand rests in his, and he squeezes hers. They make their way to Tanzaku town, but he doesn't stop there, while she does.

"You should be going back," he grins, "it'd be suicide to escort you all the way home."

"Who says you're escorting?" she raises her eyebrows, "If anything, I'm doing such a thing for you."

He's clearly amused, but he doesn't want to let go of her hand. A breeze passes them, sending a shiver up her spine. It's still cold, still empty. Still night time, and this is still an enemy.

She takes her hand away, and he lets his fall back to his side.

"Go home, Itachi," he says, with a playful grin, "What did I tell you about doing stupid things?"

"You should take your own advice. You were in earshot of villages," she points out, a little defensive.

"And you were there to lead me right away from it," he says, a weird nostalgia in his voice. He takes steps up to her until they're face to face, "I guess I owe you one of these then?"

He leans down and presses his lips gently to her cheek, and she's startled by it. But she doesn't pull away. The kiss is accepted, and suddenly that warmth is there in her again.

"Go home, stranger." She says when he pulls back. They stare eye to eye for a moment, that grin never seeming to leave the stranger's face.

Finally, Itachi forces herself to turn away, and as she does so does he. When she finally makes her way home, she realizes she spent the whole walk in that hazy state. She sleeps peacefully, feels the warmth lingering in her palm.

And she wishes she had gotten his name.

A year passed by with quiet little steps. That bridge became her new favorite spot for many different reasons.

It was a nice run from home. It was a beautiful spot to be in. It now had a warming memory.

And then, there was always that chance that somehow or other he'd end up there again. But it hadn't happened for quite some time, so she never held her breath.

She was still clueless of his name or anything about him. She had had the opportunity to look him up, but to her that seemed like cheating. As though that would ruin the entire affair for her.

Well into her nineteenth year alive, her father had been pressing her to find more to her life. To find that extra power, that extra love, that extra strength. That extra giving for the clan. She couldn't even imagine giving more at this point, as she had given everything she had.

Her brother, her beloved brother, had turned fourteen just a few weeks before.

Life was alright.

But one night she felt the urge to return to that bridge for a night.

Tonight was warm, but the cold of loneliness stung her as it always seemed to do. As she made her way to the bridge, she was appalled at what she found.

It was in ruin, the entire bridge. Planks floated down the river, some drifted along the rocks. Splinters coated the ground before the bridge.

"No…" she grumbled, wrapped her jacket tighter around herself. The damage done looked recent.

Rather than trying to jump from one edge to the other, she waded slowly into the river water. It gave her shivers, but it was warm enough that she would dry off in time.

As she made her way through the river, a glint caught her eye upriver.

Something running. A glint of a forehead protector. A glint of a weapon.

She was running before she could even think. A kunai nicked the back of her left leg, but she kept on, dashing into the woods. She heard several sets of feet behind her, and knew it wouldn't be a good idea to turn and take them all on.

They were Mist shinobi, she had seen. The nostalgia was sickening.

She dashed through the stranger's clearing, now overgrown and empty. Unsure of her own thought process, she dashed back into the river water, halting there, knee deep.

A squad of five shinobi surrounded her. She reached into her back and pulled out a few kunai, activating her Sharingan in a tone of brilliantly bloody red.

"You should just give in," one of the men was saying. She looked each man over, and was glad to see that none of them were her stranger. "You're outnumbered, Uchiha."

She said nothing, felt nothing. She'd have to slaughter them, she had no choice. They could team up and take her out if she let her guard down enough.

Two men launched forward. She disposed of one, catching the other in a paralyzing genjutsu. Another man came up on her side, she blocked his blade with the bottom of her shoe. Flew back, down the river. One man came at her from the front, one from behind.

One man she could dodge, but the other took the advantage to slice at her, cutting into her arm before she could kick him across the face.

The battle seemed to rage on forever. The disturbing reality was setting in, as it did – these were people, enemies, who would love to watch her die. It was the only way she could push herself on, the only way she could commit the deeds needed.

Four down, after a long time. The last man was worn down, and seemed scared. He couldn't be more than chunin level, and she pitied him.

He went to move away, and she was willing to let him, until he was smashed back into the river, and she recognized the blade immediately.

"What're you running from?" the stranger laughed, "Coward."

The man shivered from the cold of the water, but seemed to be relieved that his comrade was by his side. And the stranger did just that – stood at his side, like a comrade.

It was what she had feared – that he would come after her not as that kind stranger, but as the killing machine she had seen of him.

"Itachi," the stranger grins, "I'm sorry about the bridge. It was the only way to get you here."

She didn't speak, didn't feel a need to. It was as though all of those odd hopes she had had buried in her chest had died all at once. The cold was overwhelming. Perhaps she had gotten her hopes up, after all.

The other shinobi seemed to be ready again, confident now. The stranger and his comrade bent at the knees, ready to launch an assault. Itachi readied herself with some hesitance, only to be completely shocked out of her readiness.

The man flew back onto shore, his chest ripped open and bleeding profusely. He took three breaths before he died for good.

The stranger's laugh was deep and low, the huge sword in his hand and at his side. The bandages covering it ripped. Blood dribbling down the spikes.

"You think I'd really turn on you like that?" he grinned, "Itachi, really?"

She finally let out the breath that she was holding. "That was your countryman."

"I've killed plenty of them, this one won't make a difference." The moonlight gleams on his skin. The river around their legs flows quickly past them. "But when I heard their mission, there was no way I couldn't come along and 'help'."

"I'm a stranger to you, though," she says, still wary of him. Her emotions are a little crazy, and she takes a step back when he takes a step forward.

To her relief, he replaces his sword on his back.

"That fact didn't stop you from coming here," he points out, moving out of the water onto shore. And then that hand is held out to her, inviting with its warmth. "For the record, I did mean it when I apologized for the bridge."

She wanted to hold that hand, desperately, but insecurity kept her knee-deep in the water. He watched her face carefully, before he stepped out into the water to her. When she took a step back, he stopped, eying her.

"What do you want me to do?" he snorts, "Was that not proof enough?"

He takes her hand in his, gripping it tightly. She looks away, unsure of how to gauge the situation. But she allows him to lead her out of the water.

They begin to walk their path together, for the third time, but Itachi still feels uneasy. She stops eventually, halfway to town. He looks at her curiously.

"You don't trust me," he says, fully serious. She sighs.

"I don't know how to feel," she admits, shrugging. But their hands stay clasped. His eyes burrow into her. "Where will you even go? You've slaughtered-"

With a simple yank, she's enveloped in his arms.

"I need you to trust me, alright?" he says, "I'm not going _anywhere_, except _here_."

She feels his grin against her shoulder. She wraps her arms around his thick torso, pressing her face into his chest to take in his scent. A musty, strong scent that fills her senses and makes her want to fall right to sleep with him.

"I did this to protect you," he reaffirms, "That's all I've ever done, have I not?"

With a nod, they walk again. Their hands are locked together as clouds rumble overhead.

Tanzaku town again. But he moves to go another way, and she follows after him without any sort of complaint.

Her emotions seem to mend themselves. This is her stranger, again. And then she remembers.

"What's your name?" she asks suddenly, and this question amuses him a great amount. He even laughs.

"Hoshigaki Kisame."

They stop together on the dark path again.

"Kisame," she rolls the name off of her tongue, edging closer to him. The night isn't cold, but warm. Nice and warm. "I should have asked sooner."

"Come with me, Itachi." He takes a few backwards steps, down the path. "Stay with me for a while."

"But you're a stranger," Itachi says, with an edge of humor, "From what I just saw, why should I trust you?"

He's suddenly close to her, their faces hovering barely an inch apart.

"Because I'd kill anyone to keep you safe," his eyes glitter with bloodlust in the dark, "Those men from the Stone nation were here to collect intel on _you_, Itachi."

This fact is odd in her head. The pieces are hard to put together, but there's no doubt in her mind that he's telling the truth.

"I have to return to Kono-"

"I know," he shakes his head, with a laugh, "Just come with me. Be with me, for a while."

He walks backwards again, both of her hands in his.

The one thing her clan had yet to take from her was this stranger, who called her to him in the night. His warmth drew her along, his hands guided her.

And she was okay with this, okay with him.

Even if she didn't know who he was.


End file.
